


The Great British Sing Off

by alimacbrux



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: (there's a tour at the end I swear), Alternate Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Phandom Fic Fests: Tour II, Rivals, Sexual Content, Singers AU, Very late I am so sorry, Very long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 14:53:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16020224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alimacbrux/pseuds/alimacbrux
Summary: It's the annual Great British Sing Off and Dan Howell and Phil Lester are competing to win a chance at touring with Harry Styles. What follows is a series of messed up routines, crazy styles(pun intended) and perhaps even new romances.





	The Great British Sing Off

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately, due to a very last minute school trip, I was unable to post this on time(specifically three days late. Oops) So, this might just be it's own very long one shot. So. 
> 
> Thank you to the absolutely fantastic and amazing @sassprincesierra for betaing and putting up with my endless ellipsis use and italics. I'm so sorry lmao.

Dan took a deep breath while he paced back and forth in the waiting room. He felt the eyes of the other people who waited as if they watched his nervous habit. He looked up and saw a guy around his age sat calmly in one of the seats, as he tapped his fingers on his knee and looked around the room curiously. He had jet black hair in a side fringe and devilish blue eyes that made Dan weak. 

“Dan Howell?” a lady- whose name Dan already forgot- said, before she stepped back into the room. Dan stopped in his tracks and his heartbeat raced even faster as he looked over at the woman with her way-too-sleek hair tied back in a ponytail and perfectly ironed outfit. On his way past, he caught the blue-eyed man’s eye and gave him a tiny smile, which the man miraculously returned. 

“Your piano is just being set up now,” the woman explained to Dan as she led him around a corridor that led towards the stage on which he would audition. 

Dan nodded stiffly, and breathed heavily through his nose. “You should try to calm down, panicking will only make it worse,” the woman continued, eyeing Dan sideways. He felt his face heat up and he nodded again, taking a deep breath in and out to calm himself even slightly. 

As if he could possibly calm down when he was about to audition for The Great British Sing Off.

They stopped when they got backstage. From the wings, Dan could see a sleek black piano situated centre stage, a spotlight pointed at it. He could just barely see the judges’ table as well, though he could only see the corner from this angle. 

“Go ahead,” the lady whispered, pushing him towards the host, Jimmy Hill. He was dressed in a vibrant blue suit and crisp white shirt with a broad, cheerful smile on his face. 

“Break a leg!” he whispered happily, grinning widely as Dan muttered a soft “thank you.”

Dan stepped onto stage and was immediately engulfed in light, having to squint from the brightness. He stopped just in front of the piano, and gave the judges an awkward little wave and a smile he hoped didn't look to fake. He tried to ignore the thousands of people watching behind the judges’ table. 

“Hello there! What’s your name?” Chloe Hamilton asked from the judge table, shooting Dan a blinding white smile. It was actually quite comforting. 

Dan cleared his throat. “My name’s Dan, Dan Howell,” he replied steadily, smiling at the judges. 

“I’d ask you what you are doing for us today, but from the piano in the background, I think we can tell,” Simon Cowell joked, raising an eyebrow at Dan. Was he a judge for _every_ talent show? 

Dan chuckled. “Oh, no, that's a cover up. I’m actually playing the bagpipes,” he remarked, earning laughs from the audience and two of the judges. Not Simon. “I’ll be playing Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran,” he said after a moment of slightly awkward silence. _Just sit down and play the fucking song_ he thought to himself. 

Dan plopped down in the creaky piano seat and put his hands on the ivory keys. As if the rest of the world melted away, Dan’s nerves faded and he let his hands do what they wanted, playing the song he knew better than the back of his hand. His hands moved across the keys, the notes swirled in the air with the chords and lyrics spinning together in a melodic dance. 

Faintly, he heard cheers, but ignored them in favour of getting through the song. He closed his eyes once he reached the chorus, singing along to the soft tune like his life depended on it. He pressed into the keys, smiling to himself as he got into the song. 

When he finally finished, Dan let the notes fade out for a few seconds and turned to look back at the judges. They all looked in awe, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in shock. The crowd behind them were on their feet and Dan felt his heart soaring, a relieved laugh tumbled out of his mouth. 

“That was really quite impressive, I will admit, Dan,” Andrew Williams, the lead singer of a band ten years ago, stated simply, leaning back in his seat. “My answer is yes,” he said, making Dan’s eyes widen in shock. Dan’s heart did a little cha cha slide inside his chest. 

Dan thanked him quietly, looking over at Harry fucking Styles who is sat casually between Simon and Chloe. “You seemed really nervous when you came on, but then you did that. I think we were all amazed, mate,” Harry commented, smirking at Dan, “I’d say yes.’” _Oh my God, Harry fucking Styles liked my performance._

“I agree with Harry,” Chloe chimed, beaming up at Dan, “You looked like you sort of melted into the music, like you belonged in the song. You came on as this shy and nervous guy and turned into this melodic _angel_ in a matter of seconds.” Dan’s face flushed and his eyes darted back and forth between Chloe and Harry. It was the bisexual nightmare, being stared at by two intimidatingly attractive people. 

“My answer is yes, by the way,” she added. Dan couldn't help it; his jaw dropped. He was going to the next round. 

“It was surprising, yes,” Simon said, leaning forward on the table and fiddling with his pen, “but it wasn't a bad surprise. My answer is yes.” 

Dan nearly dropped dead. Four yeses. _Four fucking yeses._ He must have been dreaming. 

“Th-thank you,” he stuttered, stumbling off the stage so the next person could come on. 

“He was so cute. Really awkward, but adorable,” Dan overheard Chloe saying to the judges. This was going to kill him.

¶§

Phil was in the next round. He actually got _into the next round._ He hadn't messed up or gotten laughed at or anything. He got applause and the judges actually liked his singing. Chloe even liked his hair (Simon didn't, but who cared anyway?)!

A few weeks after the auditions, Phil was back at yet another stadium, preparing to do another round of auditions before he could get into the Great British Sing Off house. The winner of the “sing off” would get to be the opening act of Harry Styles’ tour. 

Of course, Phil wasn't even remotely sure he had the chance of winning, he would consider it an accomplishment if he even got into the house. 

Phil looked around the venue at the much smaller crowd of people there for the second round. He recognised a few faces, particularly the man he saw last time pacing back and forth with the curly brown hair and lethal amber eyes. He was honestly going to be the death of Phil.

He wasn't pacing this time; he was sitting in one of the uncomfortable plastic seats and bobbing his knee up and down and mumbling the words to the song he was going to do. 

Maybe Phil should have been warming up. After all, loads of other people around him were and he could perfect his song a lot more if he did. 

But before Phil could even open his mouth to do a vocal exercise, the brunette wandered over to him and plopped into the empty seat beside him. Phil’s eyes widened as he looked sideways at the startlingly handsome man who was now sitting right next to him. 

“So, you’re one of my competitors, are you?” the man said, his voice smooth and calm with a slightly posh, southern accent. He held out a hand for Phil to shake and added confidently, “The name’s Dan Howell. And you are?” 

Phil would like to say he sounded just as cool and collected as Dan did, but he’d be lying. “Uh, m-my name’s Phil, Phil Lester,” he stammered, cheeks flushing violently, harshly contrasting his too-pale skin. He pulled his hand away and dropped it into his lap like he’d been burned from the touch.

Dan leaned back a bit in his chair, staring intently at Phil, a devilish smirk played on his lips. “So, Phil Lester, what song are you doing today?” he asked, looking genuinely curious. Phil felt his stomach twisting in a knot from the other man’s steady eye contact with his amber eyes Phil swore could have held an ancient fossil. 

“Talk Too Much by COIN,” he replied casually, trying to match Dan’s obvious ease,“What about you?” Dan bobbed his head in interest. 

“A Thousand Years by Christina Perri. It's one of my favourites,” he replied, sitting forwards in his seat again. He tucked his right leg under himself, tapping his other foot on the floor and looking back at Phil with his hair falling into his face. Phil had to resist the urge to push it back. “Still rocking the emo fringe? You know it's 2018 and not 2008, right?” Dan said after a while, flicking Phil’s hair. 

Phil’s heart jolted like a shockwave ran through it, pulsing through his veins and powering him up like an engine. He flattened his fringe, pouting at Dan with a dramatically quivering lip. “Chloe said she liked it, so your opinion is invalid,” Phil said simply, straightening up in his seat. 

“Damn, you got a compliment from literally the nicest person on the planet? Wow, what a fucking miracle!” Dan mocked, grinning. Phil elbowed him in the side and rolled his eyes. 

“We all want a compliment from Chloe though,” Phil replied shortly, scowling. “We all want a compliment from the pretty girl, don't we?” 

Dan shrugged, staring right back at Phil. “I’d much prefer a compliment from Harry Styles, frankly,” he deadpanned, face set and unreadable. Was Dan implying what Phil thought he was implying? 

Before he could speculate further, however, Phil’s name was called and he had to leave this odd conversation. “Break a leg, Lester,” Dan called after him, making roses bloom on Phil’s face. 

 

“Welcome back, Phil. How are you?” Jimmy greeted Phil as soon as he reached backstage, his trademark grin was present as usual. Today he had on bright yellow dress trousers and a yellow button down which nicely suited his platinum blond hair. 

Phil nodded, fixing his fringe self-consciously. “I’m okay. As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” he replied, trying to smile at Jimmy as best as he could. 

Jimmy grinned and patted Phil on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, they loved you last time so they'll love you now, too,” Jimmy assured him. Phil nodded, licking his desert-dry lips and walked towards the stage. 

“Hello, Phil. Welcome back,” Simon said once Phil had made his way to the middle of the stage. 

Phil waved to the judges again. The audience cheered politely at his entrance and Phil felt himself blush again. 

“So, what will you be doing for us today, Phil?” Andrew asked, eyes boring into Phil even from here. He was a very attractive man, Andrew, with dark skin and a bright smile and a colourful shirt. He was both welcoming and evidently better than Phil. 

_Stop now before you have a breakdown._

“Talk Too Much by COIN,” he replied, fiddling with his waistband. He was wearing a blue and black tartan button down that day and some white Vans. 

“Well, go ahead.” 

Phil waited for the music to start and tapped his foot- almost instinctively- to the beat. He got into the song, and calmed down significantly as he tumbled into the music. He held onto the microphone on its stand and looked into the audience, grinning to match the mood of the song. 

Phil bobbed his head up and down, fringe falling in his eyes as he pulled the mic off of its stand to dance a little off to the side, swaying with the dancey beat and bouncing on his heels. As it reached a slower, quieter part, he went back to the stand and shut his eyes to feel the beat of the music before it moved back into the fast part. 

The song finished not long after and Phil was almost out of breath, flicking his hair out of his eyes and looking hopefully back at the judges. 

“That was a very fun routine you did there! I think the dancing could definitely improve with some help, but it's a yes from me,” Harry said, grinning at Phil so his pulse heightened for a second. 

Chloe nodded, beaming just as widely. “I’ve never actually heard that song, but if it's anywhere near as good as your version, I’ll definitely be listening to it,” she added, eyes twinkling, “It’s a yes from me, too.” 

Simon leaned forwards in his seat as usual, looking deadly serious. “You know, I think that song suited you. Still can't stand the stupid haircut, but it’s a yes.” Phil laughed nervously, face flushing as he fidgeted with his fringe. 

“The fringe falling in your eyes does seem to be a bit of a problem,” Andrew commented, “But I loved the song and your vocals were amazing. I say yes!” 

“Congratulations, Phil, you’re going to the Sing Off mansion!” Harry said excitedly. 

Phil nearly knocked over the mic stand in his excitement, thanking the judges profusely and making his way off the stage. He was in complete disbelief, hardly looking where he was going.

He nearly ran into Dan in his haste, eyes wide with surprise. Dan was smiling slightly, looking evidently less confident than he had a few minutes ago. “I told you the fringe was stupid,” Dan said, smirking at Phil. “That was two judges that didn't like it.” 

“Mhm, yeah,” Phil replied shortly, “Break a leg, Howell.” He tried to make his voice less affronted. Keyword being 'tried’. 

Dan rolled his eyes. “Is that a threat?” he asked semi-jokingly. Once again he was completely unreadable and Phil felt taken aback at the mixed messages he was getting. “See you around, Lester.” 

Then, he was marching on stage with his head held high and a grin on his face. Phil hadn't even noticed the piano on the stage. 

¶§

The Sing Off mansion truly was a mansion. Dan hopped out of the back seat of the car with another contestant, a girl named Olivia with Ariel-red hair styled in a messy bun on top of her head and a guitar at her feet, and looked up at the massive house. 

The house was a gorgeous Spanish style house with pale sandstone walls and sleek terracotta roof tiles situated just outside of Alicante. There were windows dotted here and there overlooking the view of the Mediterranean. The front door was two massive mahogany doors with windows in the centre. The land it was situated on was at least a few acres, set on a cliffside with perfectly cut green grass and various bushes of tropical flowers situated around the place. 

Dan was instantly in love. 

“Woah, it's massive, innit?” Olivia commented as they pulled their suitcases up the brick pathway. Dan nodded, acutely aware of the cameraman who followed them to get their reactions. 

“Yeah, very. It's quite extravagant,” he replied, reaching the front door. 

After less than a second waiting, both of the front doors swung open to reveal all four judges. “Welcome to the sing off house!” they all chimed, letting the pair wander inside the massive home. 

The inside of the house was just as extraordinary. It had polished dark wooden floors and the perfect temperature that wasn't too hot, yet not too cold. The living room was huge with a high ceiling, bright white walls decorated with intricate paintings and plenty of leather couches scattered all around with multi-coloured pillows and blankets tossed across them. The kitchen was sleek and modern with white cupboards and marble countertops. 

Everything about it was modern and expensive and made Dan feel slightly out of place. 

There were a few other contestants already there as well, sitting together in the living room on the couches. They all greeted Dan and Olivia as they followed the woman- whose name he knew was Miranda, as she introduced herself again the other day- up the stairs to their bedrooms. 

The second story was carpeted this time with soft and freshly hoovered grey carpeting. The walls were lined with photos of various celebrities performing concerts or shows and a multitude of doors. “Here is your room, Dan,” Miranda said as they reached one of the doors and she pushed it open. 

Inside the room reminded Dan of a hotel with its two double beds with colourful blankets at the ends and way too many pillows to be necessary. There was a nice view of the water from their window, which was lined with thick yellow curtains. Miranda left Dan on his own to help Olivia find her own room while Dan looked around his new bedroom for at least a few weeks. 

Dan wondered who his roommate would be as he plopped his black suitcase on top of one of the beds, zipping it open to unpack it. He hoped it was someone nice. He thought back to the other contestants he had met, trying to remember who had seemed rude or uptight as he put his clothes into one of the wardrobes they were given. 

Dan hummed to himself, almost done shoving clothes and shoes into the many drawers he was allocated when he heard the door to the bedroom clicking open. Dan turned around to see who it was and promptly dropped a Kanye West t-shirt on the floor. 

“Hello again,” Phil Lester said as he wandered into the room, dragging with him a vibrant blue suitcase and red backpack. “Thank you, Miranda,” he told their management and shut the door behind him. 

Dan leaned down to pick up his fallen shirt and started refolding it, trying adamantly to ignore Phil’s presence. “You like Kanye West?” Phil commented, watching Dan put the black clothes in with the rest. 

Dan rolled his eyes and replied shortly, “Duh. Why else would I have his shirt?” Phil shrugged, opening up his suitcase as well. 

“Isn't he kind of, well, problematic?” Phil asked, walking over to the empty wardrobe to open it up. 

“Especially now,” Dan said, tossing his pair of Yeezy shoes into the wardrobe. “I don't condone any of the guy’s bullshit about slavery and Trump and whatnot but he _does_ still have catchy music.” 

Phil shrugged, looking thoughtful. “Well, okay then,” he replied simply, carrying a bright blue t-shirt over to his set of drawers, “At least you acknowledge it.” 

Dan finished unpacking not long after and pushed his bag underneath the bed, ignoring Phil again. “See you downstairs, roommate,” he said as he strided out of the room and back down the stairs. 

This was going to be a long few weeks with _him_ as a roommate. 

¶§

The music room was a large, high ceilinged room with walls lined with soundproof cushioning and various instruments situated on the outer edges. There was a drum set, a grand piano, several guitars and bass guitars and even a harp. 

Most of the other contestants were already there by the time Phil arrived, all seated in a giant circle formed by many chairs. Phil sidled over to a girl he talked to during his first audition, Dahlia, and said hello to her. Dan was already seated on the other side of the circle between a girl with bright red hair and a middle aged black man in a casual suit. He was talking animatedly with the red haired girl who nodded along with interest. 

“Welcome singers to your first day of Sing Off!” Harry Styles said, entering the room followed by the other three judges. He was dressed in red and white pinstriped trousers and a plain white t-shirt, a pair of sunglasses resting on top of his curls and fine, polished ballroom shoes. As usual, Phil was unsure whether he wanted to _look_ like Harry Styles or to _make out with_ Harry Styles. 

Everyone in the room cheered, a few wolf whistles and whoops going up. Phil clapped along, grinning at the judges and peering at the camerawoman who was standing behind the judges. There was another cameraman set up behind him to show the judges as they spoke and Phil could feel the presence of him right behind his back. It made his skin crawl. 

“Okay, so today we’ll just do a nice warm up and then we’ll go around the circle and everyone can sing whatever song they like,” Andrew explained, clapping his hands together authoritatively. Phil’s smile dropped, along with his heart; he had to sing in front of his competition? Already? 

“Don’t look so grim, guys! You’re safe for the next few weeks!” Harry joked, looking around at the others. At least he wasn't the only person that looked terrified to be singing in front of everyone else already. 

For the next 20 minutes, the 26 contestants followed Harry’s lead in a warm up, chock full of cheesy songs, plenty of scales and tongue twisters. Phil managed to get through it just fine, tripping up a bit on a song called “Danger, Men at Work.” All in all, everyone was having a good time laughing and singing together like old friends. 

And then came the performances. 

Phil was only a few seats away from the first person, meaning he would be one of the last people to sing. Part of him was relieved to not be going first, but knew he would only psych himself out the longer he waited. 

Sure enough, a few minutes later and a few songs in, Phil was on the verge of a full on panic attack. Everyone else seemed so much better, so much more confident than him as they belted out various songs and even played some of the instruments. There were hundreds of styles flowing through the air: hip hop, jazz, pop, rock, even calypso. 

Phil buried his hands into his pockets, biting his lip while his knee bounced erratically. He was trying to focus on his breathing to calm himself down, but it was virtually impossible with the constant hum of singing going around. It got to Dan’s red haired friend—apparently her name was Olivia—and Phil was barely keeping himself from sprinting out of the room. He felt sick to his stomach, barely noticing that she was even singing, his head swimming. 

As applause arose around the room, Phil noticed Dan getting up and striding over to the piano. He looked a little red in the face, but nowhere near as scared as Phil. “My name is Dan and today I’ll be singing A Thousand Years by Christina Perri,” he announced, grinning at the circle of people. Phil almost felt comforted. Almost. 

As Dan got into the song, Phil saw his nerves floating away, fingers flying across the smooth ivory keys expertly. His voice was melodic and angelic, lilting and soaring when it needed to and hitting every high and low note perfectly. He shut his eyes a few times, just proving to Phil how much better he was, how much more he knew the song. It was making him feel sick and ten times more hopeless. 

Dan finished his song to much applause and did a tiny little bow before walking back over to his seat. He got plenty of compliments and pats on the back, grinning broadly and sitting up straighter. Phil ran his hands through his hair, watching Dan in despair as the next person—Bill—started his song. 

Dan caught Phil’s eyes, smile falling and eyebrows knitting together. He looked surprisingly worried. “You okay?” he mouthed, tilting his head curiously at Phil. Of course he was being nice to Phil again now that he was a panicking mess. 

Phil shrugged in reply and mouthed back, “Probably not.” Dan pointed understandingly and mouthed, “Ignore them. Just breathe.” He enunciated his words clearly, eyeing Bill sideways as he got heavily into a German opera song. His voice was powerful and booming and made Phil shudder. 

Phil tried to take Dan’s advice, taking deep breaths in and out and shutting his eyes, shutting out the rest of the room. His heart was slowing to a more normal pace, though the adrenaline still pumped through his veins and made his hands tremble at his sides. He watched Dan turn in his seat during the applause and whisper something to Chloe, who was sitting just behind him and clapping politely to the end of the next song. 

She nodded at Dan understandingly, glancing back at Phil and turning to get Miranda’s attention. Miranda listened to what Chloe was telling her and then promptly disappeared from the room. 

“What did you do?” Phil asked Dan silently, raising his eyebrows. “Nothing. You’ll see,” Dan mouthed back, looking sympathetic. Phil rolled his eyes and sat low in his seat, still bouncing his knee as the next contestant started singing. 

Not two minutes later, Miranda returned holding a plastic cup filled with water. She discreetly made her away around the circle to Phil and nudged him with the cup. Phil took it gratefully and downed the entire thing in a split second. He tucked the water under his seat, easily taking a deep breath after his giant gulp of ice cold water. 

When Phil’s turn finally came, he stood up woozily, bumping his chair slightly. He cleared his throat and said slowly, “I’m Phil and today I’ll be singing Talk Too Much by COIN.” There was a tiny applause before Phil started his song, which quickly died as he began. 

Phil tapped his foot again, staying on beat as he started the chorus of the song and bopping his head a bit. He smiled to himself, getting lost in the catchy tune as the cheerful tune engulfed him in a hug, notes flying and mingling in the air. As he reached the chorus again, he pointed at Dan, grinning jokingly as he sang about talking too much. Dan rolled his eyes, smiling back at him. 

Phil finished his song finally a few minutes later, only messing up on a few lyrics or notes. But he barely noticed through the wide applause he got, dropping back into his seat with a smile splitting his cheeks. He caught Dan’s eyes and earned a subtle thumbs up and a mouthed, “Nice job.” 

A quarter of an hour later, the contestants were released back to their rooms to get ready for lunch and Dan and Phil wandered back up the stairs together in silence. All around them, others were chatting and joking together, voices ringing in the high ceilings and echoing. 

Once the door shut behind them, Phil immediately plopped down on top of his bed, stuffing his face in the blue and orange throw pillow. He turned his head to look up at Dan who was sitting in his own bed, looking back at him with intensity to match that of the auditions. 

“Erm, thanks for earlier, by the way,” Phil said awkwardly, blush crawling along his face and neck, “You didn't have to do that for me.” 

Dan shrugged, tugging his legs underneath himself and smiling softly. “Course I did. You were having a panic attack, which is understandable,” he replied casually, shrugging again, “I wasn't just going to watch and let you suffer. If we’re gonna have to compete, it should be fair game.” 

Phil bobbed his head up and down slowly, trying to process Dan’s words. Dan had helped him to calm down, which was great of him, but he had only done it for the competition. It was just so that they could have a fair fight, wasn't it? 

“Well, Lester, shall we make our way down to lunch?” Dan pulled Phil out of his reverie, jumping off his bed and pulling on Phil’s arm. Phil clambered out of bed and followed him out of the door. 

Dan certainly was an enigma. 

¶§

Two weeks later, after plenty of group rehearsals and mini performances, Dan was starting to get much more used to performing for the others. He barely hesitated before jumping into a melody, hands flying across the piano. Even Phil seemed to be getting used to it; at least he hadn't had any other panic attacks. 

Dan was lounging in one of the chairs that were set up outdoors, legs dangling over the handrail while he skimmed through a book. It was a particularly boiling day, the sun beating down on his back so that sweat was rolling down his neck and face. He fanned himself with one of his hands, wiping some perspiration from his forehead. Even in shorts, he was boiling. 

“Jeez, how are you not fried out here? It’s 35 degrees out,” Phil said, coming up from behind suddenly. Dan looked over his shoulder at Phil in his denim shorts and blue button down. “You’re a sweating mess, Howell,” he added, poking Dan’s sweaty neck. Dan flinched away, rolling his eyes. 

Dan shrugged, squinting up at Phil through his sunglasses as he came to his other side. “So go back inside if you’re too hot out here, then,” Dan retorted, rolling his eyes and turning the page of his book. Phil hated being ignored; Dan loved to ignore him just to rile him up even more, smirking throughout. 

“I feel like I should take advantage of the actual sunlight for once,” Phil remarked, plopping into a nearby wicker seat and crossing his legs in a basket. “It's raining in London today,” he added, peering at the brunette conversationally. 

Dan made a noise of disinterest, still reading his novel and pretending Phil didn't exist. It was his favourite game to play. “Do we have rehearsals after dinner today?” Phil asked a moment later, stretching his legs out on the patio floor. Dan shrugged, knowing perfectly well that they had one before dinner. “You know, you’re a massive dickhead for ignoring me,” Phil grumbled shortly, scowling at Dan from where he sat. Dan could feel the dagger he was throwing from here. 

Dan shrugged again, turning the page again. “I get that a lot,” Dan replied. He even feigned a yawn. “I think I’m gonna go take a nap. See you around, Lester,” he said, marking the page in his book and wandering back inside. He heard Phil huffing aggravatedly behind him just before he shut the door behind him. 

“You know, one of these days he’s properly going to snap,” Olivia said as Dan made his way into the lounge to find the red haired girl chilling with Paisley and Ahmed, two other contestants. 

Dan shrugged, plopping onto a nearby couch. “I can't wait,” he said, eyes glinting mischievously and a smirk crossing his face. 

Olivia rolled her eyes, sitting up and leaning towards Dan. “You know, people on Twitter are starting to ship you two,” she whispered teasingly, grinning evilly, “Number four in trending worldwide. You even have a fuckin’ hashtag, mate!” 

Olivia shoved her phone in his face, pulling up Twitter. Sure enough, #phan was in Trending and had even moved up to the number two spot. Dan’s face flushed as he clicked on the screen and scrolled through the things people were saying. 

_Does anyone else totally ship @danieljhowell and @amazingphil? #phan_

_am i crazy or is there a lot of sexual tension between phil and dan? #phan #SingOff2018_

_you think @danieljhowell is gay for that @amazingphil guy? #phan_

There were a multitude of gifs from the latest episode, showcasing them arguing “like husbands” or looking at each other with supposed longing. Hundreds of people were liking and retweeting about them, some people even starting fan pages. Among the many shippers were the skeptics and the homophobes, complaining about the morals of shipping real people or the disgusting act of them even looking at each other. 

_Sick and tired of these homos taking over perfectly good shows #BoycottSingOff_

_Can we please have ONE show where stupid fangirls don't have to ship to boys? It's kinda gross, all this #phan shit._

“There’ve been, what, three episodes now? How are people already starting to ship us? I only properly met the lad like a month ago,” Dan scoffed, handing back the phone. It had a fancy galaxy print phone case on it that Dan quite liked. 

Olivia shrugged, flopping back on the leather couch, fitting herself between the other two. “At least they aren't complaining about me being a man in a dress anymore,” Olivia pointed out, crossing her legs at her ankles. 

It was a well known fact that Olivia was transgender, though no one in the house gave much of a fuck. She was a good singer and songwriter and well liked by most people in the house, so who cared what was in her pants? Early on in the series, people started complaining about Olivia for sharing a room with another girl and making up cruel rumours about her and it set everyone on edge seeing the tweets and memes. 

“Good point,” Dan agreed, having seen many horrid tweets about his friend yesterday. “I don't see why people even ship us though. We’re usually arguing about something or other,” Dan commented, leaning back in his seat and folding a leg under himself. 

“People love sexual tension, you know that,” Paisley stated, giggling. Dan swore that girl never stopped laughing, reminding him of an obnoxious school child on a playground. “Two attractive males having arguments and sharing a room together while they compete to go on tour with fucking Harry Styles? It's practically a fanfiction!” Dan rolled his eyes, an annoyed yet fond feeling rising in his chest. 

Dan tried to think of what it would be like to go out with Phil, entertaining the idea despite finding it absurd. He could see them helping each other practice, sharing one of their beds in favour of cuddling, giggling and holding hands at the dining table during meals. He imagined carding his fingers through that sleek black hair, pressing sort, chaste kisses to Phil’s soft pink lips, running his hands over his every nook and cranny—

Fuck. 

¶§

Phil was pacing around back stage a few days later, muttering anxiously under his breath. It was the night of the next round of competition and Phil was terrified of messing up and being sent home. He was starting to love rehearsing with all of the contestants every day, and making friends with the people in the house. 

Sure, he and Dan frequently got into petty arguments and the constant singing and dancing and choreographing was exhausting, but it was still so much fun he didn't want to lose it. Plus, he wouldn't complain to going on tour with Harry Styles…

“You’re not gonna have another panic attack are you?” 

Phil spun on his heel, coming face to face with none other than Dan Howell. He looked stunning, as usual, in a pair of black skinny jeans and a black button down top, his curly hair styled neatly in a way that looked effortless. Phil felt hopelessly underdressed in a red button down with little yellow stars and a pair of black skinny jeans. 

He scowled at the taller man and snapped, “No. I bet you wish I would so that you can have an advantage over me.” He crossed his arms over his chest, setting his jaw tightly. 

“I’ve said it before, I want a fair fight,” Dan insisted, crossing his own arms challengingly, “Besides, I hate seeing you that way. I don't need my heart to break unnecessarily, thanks.” Phil opened his mouth but promptly closed it, unsure of how to continue this conversation. “You’re on, you know,” Dan said, gesturing towards the stage with his chin as a group of girls hurried off the stage. 

Phil huffed, stumbling onto stage and taking a deep, steadying breath. All thoughts of the infuriating brunette flew out the window as he looked at the judges all looking up at him as he marched on stage and stopped in the centre. 

“Everything alright back there, Phil?” Chloe asked, arching an eyebrow and glancing towards the left wing where Phil had entered. Phil flushed, nodding robotically. 

“And what will you be singing for us today?” Simon asked, frowning at Phil with intrigue. He got the distinct feeling that Simon didn't want him to win. 

Phil took another deep inhale and replied, “I’ll be doing This Is Gospel by Panic! at the Disco, today.” 

Chloe clapped her hands together, beaming excitedly, joined by many people in the crowd. “Ooh, I love that song,” she chimed cheerfully. 

“No pressure there,” Andrew remarked, smirking. 

The accompaniment started playing overhead, a heartbeat thrumming loudly into the silent audience. He jumped right into the song, singing the first few lines while holding onto the microphone tightly on its stand. 

“If you love me let me go!” he belted, yanking the mic off the stand and headbanging a few times, grin etched across his features. This earned a little whoop from Chloe, sending his heart flying. 

“Don’t try to sleep through the end of the world and bury me alive,” he sang lowly, returning to the microphone stand and eyeing the judges with intent, “Cause I won’t give up without a fight!” 

At the end of the song, swaying his hips to the last few lyrics, Phil shut his eyes and let himself just feel the ending notes, letting them pump through his veins with the adrenaline still thrumming. 

Chloe was on her feet, wolf whistling while Simon rolled his eyes at the woman’s antics. Harry looked impressed, nodding his head and looking over at Andrew in a silent conversation Phil couldn't quite understand. The audience was going wild, a few people standing up and still shouting with excitement. It rang hopefully in Phil’s ears, painting a grin on his face. 

“Well, Phil, you’ve improved on your audience skills,” Simon said once the cheers died down, “You look less like you’re about to pass out.” 

Phil laughed awkwardly, looking down at his feet. 

“The song suits your vocal range relatively well, though you’ll need to work on the higher notes so as to not hurt your voice,” he continued, gaining a bob of the head from the blue eyed man. “And lose the fringe for goodness sake.” 

Every time. 

A few minutes later, Phil was stumbling off the stage to the sound of cheers, again, four yeses pushing him off. He couldn't believe he had made it to yet another round. Dan was standing backstage again, clapping civilly and smiling. 

“What are you gonna sing today?” Phil asked, stopping just in front of the other man while they waited for his piano to be brought on as usual. 

“Nice job out there,” Dan said, jutting his chin away, “I’m playing 7 Years.” It would certainly suit Dan’s vocal range, though that was hardly saying much; Dan could easily hit any note given to him. “But really, you did a good job out there,” Dan added, touching Phil’s shoulder and sending a wave of electricity through his body. 

“Break a leg,” Phil croaked, hurrying away before Howell could see his reaction to a simple touch. 

Good lord, if Dan got to the next round again, Phil was seriously screwed. 

¶§

“A makeover?” Phil repeated in horror the next day, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. He was standing in the music room with Harry, having worked one on one with him for the last half hour. 

Harry nodded sympathetically, patting his shoulder. “Everyone’s supposed to be getting some sort of change this week, Phil. You know that,” Harry reminded him, putting his hands on his waist so that his colourful blazer bunch up behind him. 

Phil huffed, pouting. “But how much of a makeover? They're not shaving my head are they?” Phil asked, voice high pitched with mild anxiety. He liked his black hair; it was a part of his look, his personality even. 

“Not quite,” Harry said, a mischievous smile melting across his face in a totally-not-at-all-helpful way. “Come on, we’ll get it over with, now, shall we?” 

Phil grumbled under his breath but followed Harry out of the room, dragging his heels reluctantly on the tile floor. They wandered up the stairs, past people lounging on couches and seats and into a room Phil had never noticed before. 

It was a small room with tiled floors, a couple of sinks and a large chair bolted in front of a mirror. Simon was there already, talking to a woman with a baby blue bob and straight fringe, along with a camera man. They looked up when Harry and Phil entered, pausing their conversation. 

“Oh, I see what you mean about 2009,” the blue haired woman said after giving Phil a once-over. She had a thick Spanish accent that Phil would probably enjoy if she wasn't insulting his hair. Phil knitted his eyebrows together, straightening his fringe self-consciously and looking at his white tennis shoes. 

“Phil, this is Mykayla. She’ll be doing your hair today,” Harry introduced, gesturing broadly to the woman. 

“Sit in the seat, por favor,” she stated, pointing at the seat and holding up a black cape to drape over him. 

“Have fun,” Harry said, teasingly and sauntering out of the room. Phil gulped. 

“So, we’re getting rid of the fringe today, yes?” the woman clarified, looking at Simon through the mirror. 

Simon nodded shortly, smirking at Phil’s fringe. “Yes. It keeps falling in your face when you dance or, well, do anything at all,” Simon explained, picking up Phil’s fringe and dropping it in his eyes. Phil blinked rapidly, biting his tongue. “So, I want to cut the hair much shorter and then we can style it in a modern quiff. How does that sound?” He turned to look at the camera, as though asking the audience what they thought before looking back at Phil. 

Phil shrugged. “Sounds kinda terrifying if I’m being honest,” he admitted, twiddling his fingers in his lap. Simon laughed dryly and Phil’s neck prickled from the glares he would have on him through the camera in a few days. He hated being on camera like this, open and vulnerable for people to judge his every thought, breath, and movement. 

“It'll look better, trust me,” Simon assured him, slapping his back too hard for Phil’s comfort and stepping back to let Mykayla do her work. 

She washed his hair quickly, easily ignoring the camera pointed in their direction and got to work with her tiny scissors. Phil watched in horror as she snipped at his dark hair, little strands falling into his eyes and forcing him to flinch and blink away. She turned him away from the mirror as she used an electric razor to buzz the sides shorter than the rest, running her fingers over it. 

The camera pointed in his face, too close for comfort causing a wild rose garden to sprout on his face. Mykayla pulled out a small jar of some kind of waxy product, running her fingers through his hair and spritzing it with hairspray which made Phil cough. 

Once she finished, she stepped back from her work, tilting her head back and forth and making last minute adjustments. “Stay here, I’ll go get the judges,” she ordered, exiting the room. 

A few awkward minutes later, all four judges appeared just behind Mykayla. Their faces changed from curious to surprised to ecstatic in a split second. Chloe squealed, petting his hair while Harry nodded impressedly. Simon’s arms were still crossed over his chest as usual but he looked as close to pleased as he ever would. 

Mykayla spun Phil’s seat around finally to let him see and his jaw instinctively dropped to the floor. He looked _good._ No, he looked _hot._ His hair was style up off his forehead in a perfect quiff which opened his face up and accentuated his sharper features. It made him look more like his age, and matured him significantly. 

The judges all looked at him in the mirror, wearing matching, knowing looks as Phil straight up admired himself, looking left and right and touching it lightly in mild shock and amazement. He never really thought he was unattractive but there had always been something missing. Apparently it was just a quiff he needed. 

“You like?” 

Phil looked back at Mykayla, grinning and ignoring the camera capturing his reaction. “Yes. God, yes. Thank you,” he babbled, looking back at the mirror again. He looked like a completely different, completely handsome person instead of his awkward and shy self from less than an hour and a half ago. 

“I told you,” Simon stated, earning plenty eye rolls. 

“Yeah okay,” Phil said through a smile, looking up at Simon Cowell looking properly happy for once. 

Maybe he needed this makeover sooner. 

¶§

“Holy fucking _shit_.” 

Dan was sitting in the living room with Olivia while they watched a rerun of Keeping Up with the Kardashians while the rest of the other contestants were sitting downstairs. They were completely oblivious to what was going on just a floor above. 

A commotion coming from down the stairs pulled Dan out of his zoned out position staring at the tv. Dan looked up to see what was going on and the remote he had been holding in his hand aimlessly dropped to the floor with a loud clattering noise. 

Phil had a fucking quiff. The always attractive man with his pretty black hair was being half shoved down the steps by some other contestants, closely followed by the judges, had his hair styled neatly in a quiff on top of his head. He looked positively sexy.  
Dan hadn't even noticed he was standing let alone the cameras that were pointed right at him. He was too focused on staring rather blatantly at the man standing before him in a grey quarter zip and a goddamn quiff. 

How Dan hadn't died by now was a mystery in and of itself. 

Behind him, the others sitting on the couches were all shouting and cheering Phil on, shouting compliments here and there. Phil’s face turned bright pink, but he was noticeably less awkward about the compliments than usual. 

Harry caught Dan’s eyes (Jesus Christ, that was a thing) and gave him a knowing look. Dan’s face flushed as well and he peeled his eyes away finally in favour of admiring the wood flooring. “So, shall we get to dinner everyone? Or we could stand here and compliment Mr. Lester’s new hairstyle until we starve,” Harry hollered, earning a few laughs. 

At dinner, somehow, Dan found himself sitting right next to Phil. He was wedged between Olivia and the now quiffed Phil and he could barely believe it. 

“I, uh, like your new hair,” Dan stated awkwardly between bites, “I see you’ve finally decided to get rid of the 2007 branding. The last emo has finally grown up.” 

Phil rolled his eyes, elbowing Dan harshly in the side though a smile peeked on his face nonetheless. “I could go back to the branding any time I want, Howell,” he retorted, no bite to his bark, blue eyes glinting with _something._ “But maybe you were right. I like this new hair,” Phil admitted a few minutes later when they were waiting for dessert. 

“You’re not afraid you’ll lose all your admirers that liked your 'Emo stuck in 2008’ branding?” Dan teased, brushing his fingers over the top of Phil’s head. If his eyes weren't deceiving him, he could have sworn Phil shivered a little. “Seriously, though, it suits you.” 

Phil's cheeks tainted scarlet, lip finding its way between his teeth. “Thank you,” he muttered shyly, fiddling with a loose strand in his jeans, “Although my forehead is getting a bit cold, unfortunately.”

Dan laughed a bit too loudly, shaking his head fondly as he tossed it back. He knew people were looking at him but didn't even care right now. 

After dessert, everyone started making their way to their respective rooms or to hang out in the lounge. Dan followed Phil into the living room to join the others in watching a movie until bed. 

Though both of them knew they were just stalling for later. 

Not fifteen minutes into the movie, which Dan already forgot the name of, Phil’s hand moved to Dan’s knee. It was a heavy presence, poking his thumb under one of the tears in the black fabric. Dan’s breath hitched but he was quick to cover it up with a cough which he knew Phil wouldn't possibly fall for. 

Phil was playing a daring game now, moving his hand higher and higher up Dan’s leg all the while Dan tried desperately not to squirm. He was already half hard in his jeans, trying to discreetly cover it with his button down tunic. It was futile, Phil’s hand only a few centimetres from his crotch now. Dan feigned a loud yawn, shifting in his seat to cross his legs and take a peek at Olivia’s phone. 

Ignoring Phil, as usual, was not helping matters. Instead of giving up and moving his hand away, Phil moved his hand further, edging inwards and tucking the very tips of his fingers between Dan’s legs. _Oh fuck._

The movie finally, finally, _finally_ ended and Dan pushed Phil’s hand off of him to stand up. He straightened out his shirt and turned to Olivia saying, “I’m exhausted, I’m going to bed now.” Olivia, who was currently giggling about something with a guy named Freddy, gave him a half-hearted nod and Dan strided away up the stairs. Others were following suit in going to bed, their feet echoing on the stairs behind him. 

Including Phil. 

Dan arrived back at their shared room and promptly flopped on top of his covers, heaving a heavy sigh. What on earth was going on? He couldn't be fooling around with Phil, his competition. 

But oh how he wanted to. 

The door to the room opened again and Dan stuffed his face deeper into his pillow, hoping Phil would leave him alone if he thought he fell asleep. 

But Phil hated being ignored wholeheartedly and clearly had a more stubborn attitude than Dan thought possible. “I’m back,” he whispered, voice only a few inches away from Dan’s ear, sending a chill down his spine, skin tingling. 

“I can see that,” Dan mumbled into the pillow, burrowing into the soft cotton. 

Phil groaned, pulling on his arm until Dan turned around to face him, scowling. “Stop ignoring me,” he whined, pouting childishly. 

Dan rolled over onto his side, facing away from Phil. He knew it was childish, but he couldn't help it. He liked messing with Phil. 

And then Phil snapped. 

Phil rolled Dan backwards so he was lying supine and hiked one leg over him so that he was straddling him. “Stop ignoring me,” he repeated, pinning Dan’s hands over his head and staring at him with pupils blown wide. 

“Make me,” he whispered, voice low and borderline raunchy. Phil huffed aggravatedly and finally, finally, _finally_ kissed him. It was heated and intense, Phil overpowering the kiss and rolling his hips into Dan to make him moan obscenely. 

A symphony played as their bodies weaved in and out of each other, kissing with ferocity and slight desperation. Dan was growing hard again, barely holding back his noises as Phil grinded his hips down on him. Even through four layers of fabric, Dan could feel that Phil was hard, too. 

Phil sneaked an arm between them and pressed his palm down on Dan’s raging erection, pushing harshly on the fabric of his jeans. Dan whimpered and squirmed under his touch, reaching down to unbutton his trousers and free himself from the tightness suffocating him. 

“Needy, are we?” Phil teased, helping Dan to scrambled out of his black skinny jeans and discard them off the end of the bed. With no more confinement from his jeans, Dan’s Calvin Kleins had a serious tenting to them now. 

“There's no point denying it,” he replied breathlessly, leaning up to kiss Phil’s neck while his fingers worked blindly at undoing his trousers. Phil groaned, tilting his head back as Dan mouthed at his porcelain skin and tainted it with a bright bruise.

A few minutes later, they were both undressed and Dan was whining with every second. He couldn't get enough of Phil, his skin was burning with the sensation of him. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed, gazing up at Phil and feeling around his bare chest. He thumbed carelessly over one of Phil’s pale pink nipples, pulling a breathy groan out of the other man’s lips. Dan grinned, sitting up on his elbows and flicking his tongue over Phil’s nipple while one of his hands rolled the other between his fingers. 

“God- _Dan._ Fuck,” Phil blurted, tossing his head back and pulled Dan closer. Dan grinned, pulling away to kiss Phil hard on the mouth again. He was achingly hard now. 

Dan reached down between them and, silently thanking the universe for his large hands, took them both in one hand. Phil stuttered forwards, hand gripping tightly to Dan’s shoulder while he muttered obscenities. 

Dan stroked them hard and fast, spitting generously on his hand to slick them up more. Occasionally, he would flick his thumb over the head of Phil’s cock, earning a delightful moan, twisting his wrist expertly. 

“Fuck, Dan. _Close,_ ” Phil babbled, biting Dan’s collarbone. Dan sped up his movements, reveling in the obscene sounds of their sticky precum on their skin. Phil came hard seconds later, twitching and groaning and coming in hot streaks of white. 

Dan came almost immediately after, whimpering and whining and chanting Phil’s name as he came down from his high. 

Exhausted and panting, Phil rolled off of Dan to lie supine and stare at the white ceiling. Phil felt around the bed, making a face at the mess they had both made of Dan’s covers. 

“I think we made a bit of a mess,” Phil whispered, smiling sideways at Dan. Dan shook his head and dragged Phil out of bed to wipe them down with tissues, giggling brightly. When Dan looked down at his messed blanket in despair, Phil dragged him into his own bed, tugging the crisp duvet over them. “We can worry about that tomorrow.” 

Dan curled into Phil’s chest, tangling their legs together under the duvet. He pressed a chaste kiss to the older’s shoulder and felt himself falling asleep with ease. 

¶§

The next few days passed in wild surprises and routines; everyone would have a one on one practice with one of the judges, trying to find something to “makeover” for the next round which was coming in less than a week. Some people would disappear for an hour with Mykayla for another crazy hair transformation while others got extreme wardrobe changes. 

All in all, it was a hectic week and a half. 

Phil was currently in the middle of talking to Freddy about the show they watched last night when a loud, high pitched and aggravated shriek filled the air, cutting everyone's sentences short. Phil's eyes widened, his mouth clamping shut. 

“What on earth was _that?_ ” someone asked, everyone looking around in confusion. 

“What the fuck did you do to me?!” 

Phil groaned, slapping his forehead as he recognised the shrill voice coming from up the stairs. Apparently Dan was getting a makeover that day. Phil doubted that it was really _that_ bad, whatever it was they wanted him to wear. He was just being dramatic. 

A loud thumping could be heard all the way down the stairs and everyone in the lounge turned to see Dan storming down the steps in a fit. His face was red and blotchy and his eyes were brimming with frustrated tears. 

Most surprising, however, was his hair. 

His normally chocolate brown locks were instead a platinum blond, still slightly damp from being washed recently. He was also dressed very vibrantly in pinstripe trousers and a baggy red t-shirt tucked only in the front. He didn't look anything like himself. 

Simon and Mykayla came running down the stairs after him, closely followed by someone carrying a camera as usual. Simon looked positively furious, stopping at the bottom of the stairs next to where Dan was still standing with his arms crossed and tears rolling down his face. 

As the cameraman started filming right in Dan’s face, trying to capture his dramatic, horrified reaction to his complete look change, Phil fumed. He wasn't a violent person but he severely wanted to punch the cameraman in the face to get him to leave Dan alone when he was clearly overwhelmed. 

“What’s this? What’s going on?” At that moment, Harry and Chloe entered the room, looking curious and alarmed at the scene that had unfolded in the living room. Harry took one look at Dan, eyes widening dramatically and said calmly, “Dan, what's wrong?” 

Dan pushed past the cameraman, wiping the tears off of his face and starting towards the back door. When the cameraman tried to follow the pair outside, Harry turned and said sternly, “You can stay back. Give the poor guy some space.” He looked taken aback for a moment, lowering his camera. 

“What just happened?” Phil asked suddenly, looking between Simon, Mykayla and the door to the outside. He watched as the cameraman walked back outside to film whatever their conversation was. Phil rolled his eyes. 

Simon ran a hand through his greying hair, shaking his head. Everyone's eyes were on him, even Chloe. “It's makeover season and Mr. Howell didn't seem to appreciate his new look,” Simon said shortly, rolling his eyes. “I don't think he suits the blond, actually.” 

Phil blinked at Simon, his mouth open slightly and turned back to look outside. Dan was no longer crying, which was good. He was babbling on about something to Harry who was nodding along politely while they both tried to ignore the camera pointed in their faces. 

Simon and Mykayla disappeared back up the stairs together, whispering to each other intently. Phil balled his hands into fists at his side, nearly shaking with rage at the treatment Dan had gotten. 

“Well, that was eventful,” Chloe said suddenly, clapping her hands together and looking around at the shocked and annoyed faces surrounding her. Apparently Phil wasn't the only person annoyed by this scene. 

A few minutes later, when everyone was getting back into their conversations from before, Dan and Harry returned. The cameraman had the camera at his side now, clearly having filmed enough drama for the day. Dan stumbled past the others, nearly falling over in his haste and hurried up the steps like he was on fire. 

Phil overheard a poorly muffled sob and excused himself from the lounge to go and check on the other man. He rushed up the stairs two at a time and pushed open the door to their bedroom to find Dan curled up in his bed. 

“Dan, what happened?” Phil asked softly, tossing aside the covers so he could sidle in behind Dan, pulling his back to his chest. Dan’s hair smelled strongly of peroxide and bleach, making his head swim. 

Dan sniffled, rolling over onto his back, tears still tumbling down his face. “It's so stupid,” he cried, wiping tears off his cheeks, “They think I’m too dark and depressing and Simon wanted to try 'brightening me up’ but it majorly failed.” 

“You don't look like yourself anymore,” Phil commented, twirling a blond curl around his finger. 

“I don't _feel_ like myself either,” Dan admitted, “I look ridiculous. I don't suit the blond and I hate all these colours clashing together at once. I look like I was dressed in the dark.” He sniffed again, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. “I told Harry all that and he thinks I should try the colours but we’ll have to fix my hair.” 

Phil pinched the sleeve of Dan’s shirt between to fingers, feeling the soft fabric. “I like the clothes on you,” he said, “But the hair is a bit much, I’ll admit.” 

Dan laughed wetly, voice cracking at the end. “Thankfully, Harry didn't really like the hair so he’s gonna talk Simon into fixing it somehow,” Dan continued, rolling onto his other side so he was facing Phil straight on. He draped an arm over Phil’s waist and pulled him closer, nudging their noses together. “I’m such a fucking drama queen, honestly. I bet all my ratings go down after this,” Dan despaired, resting his forehead against Phil’s. 

Phil shrugged, pressing a chaste kiss to Dan’s lips. “I think more people will probably sympathise with you,” Phil replied, “Your hair _is_ a bit ridiculous looking.” Dan groaned, slapping Phil’s shoulder in annoyance. “Plus, you’ll probably be entertaining for those weirdos that thrive off of drama at every corner.” 

Dan rolled his eyes, smiling fondly at Phil and kissing him again. It was messy and slow, their teeth bumping together and their noses getting in the way, but it was all either of them needed to calm down after the events of the last few minutes. Phil pulled Dan closer, flush against his chest and tucked one of his legs between Dan’s. 

“God, I hate having a camera on me during my worst moments. It feels so suffocating,” Dan grumbled, leaning back on his pillow and closing his eyes, “and it means we can't be all coupley and gross without having thousands of people tweeting about it.” He opened his eyes again, smiling softly at Phil, eyes fond. 

Phil rolled on top of him, kissing his forehead sloppily. “It's weird, isn't it?” Phil thought aloud, “Suddenly all these people care about my love life and I’m trending on Twitter three days in a row.” 

Dan giggled, shaking his head. “We’ll figure something out,” he whispered, kissing Phil lightly like it was his favourite activity. “I should probably go and do something about my hair now, though. Try to help the ratings or something.” 

Dan rolled out of bed, leaning over to kiss Phil’s cheek before stumbling out of their room, leaving Phil on his own in Dan's bed. 

 

¶§

A few days later, it was the next round again. Dan’s hair was dyed, once more, a dark brown, thankfully, after many arguments with Simon and Mykayla. Now, he was pacing backstage, muttering the lyrics of his song. He was so unsure of his performance this time, so _not used to_ his new wardrobe. 

Today, after just as many quarrels with Harry and the wardrobe team, Dan was wearing black cropped dress trousers, a glittery green collarless button down and black Doc Martens. A tiny part of him kind of liked the outfit, but he couldn't help but feel insecure dressed so far out of his comfort zone. 

The new girl group made up of Paisley and two other contestants named Holly and Dahlia were singing a cover of Cry Baby, their voices resonating in Dan’s ears to ground him slightly. He took a deep, calming breath and ran a hand through his hairspray-stiff curls, biting his bottom lip instinctively. 

“Hey,” a voice said from behind him suddenly, dragging him out of his nervous reverie. Dan spun instantly on his heel, nearly stumbling into none other than Phil. “You okay? I thought I’d come to wish you good luck, but you look like you might need a bit more than that,” Phil explained, knitting his eyebrows together in clear concern. 

Dan huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m afraid people won't like my new look. They technically haven't seen the episode showing the transition so I have no idea how they’ll react to it and what if they think I look stupid or tacky? I’m just not used to looking like this or having this much—” Dan rambled, words flying fast and slightly blurred together. 

Phil placed his hands on Dan’s shoulders, stopping him in his tracks, “Dan, love, you’re fine. Don't worry, I’m certain they’ll love you. How could they not? You look great, you sing even better and your hair is back to its normal shade.” His calm, steady voice tied Dan back to the earth, tugging him from the treacherous clouds he was currently wallowing in. Phil looked around to see if anyone was watching and, seeing that the coast was clear, pressed a short, chaste kiss to Dan’s lips and stepped away. Applause interrupted their moment suddenly and Dan was suddenly very aware of having to be on stage in front of _everyone_ in a matter of moments. 

Dan took another heavy breath, plastering on a smile to congratulate the three girls making their way off the stage together, wide grins on their own faces. “Break a leg, Dan!” they all chimed, hurrying past him excitedly. 

“You’re gonna blow them all away,” Phil whispered, squeezing Dan’s hand encouragingly. Dan was suddenly aware that they hadn't ever actually held hands before now and really didn't want to stop. 

Although, all good things must come to an end and he was being ushered towards Jimmy. “Loving the new look, Dan!” Jimmy said cheerfully, waving a hand up and down in a dramatic gesture. Dan was blatantly aware of the camera pointing at him and Jimmy’s interaction. “You ready to knock 'em dead?” Jimmy asked, raising his eyebrows. 

Dan shrugged in a way he hoped came across as nonchalant. “Hopefully no one _actually_ dies. But I hope so,” he replied, smiling politely at Jimmy. “Not sure I’m used to this much colour, but oh well.” 

Jimmy laughed hard, with his trademark grin plastered on his face. “You’ll get used to it, I’m sure,” he assured him, elbowing Dan lightly in the side. Before their conversation could continue, applause broke out as Dan was called onto the stage. “You got this!” Jimmy said, lightly pushing him onstage. 

Dan was instantly blinded by the follow spot as he strided onto the stage, putting on some sort of confident facade and stopping in front of his best friend: a piano. The crowd’s applause was—unless Dan was imagining things—significantly louder than usual as he waved at everyone and looked down at the judges’ table. 

“That is quite the look, Dan. How do you feel about it?” Andrew asked, grinning at him as usual. His teeth were startlingly white, even from here on the stage. 

Dan shrugged, straightening out his button down. “It's certainly out of my comfort zone, but I don't hate it,” he replied casually, bouncing back and forward on his heels. 

“Right, so what will you be playing today for us?” Simon asked, raising a single eyebrow curiously. 

“I’ll be playing WILD by Troye Sivan,” he explained, chewing his bottom lip habitually. 

Dan settled down in his seat behind the piano, placing his hands on the keys like they belonged there. He took a deep breath and started the first few chords, fingers dancing delicately on the ivory keys and his foot pushing down the pedals. 

He leaned into the notes this time, words floating out of his lips. The lyrics rang in his ears, echoing in his head and settling there comfortably. He shut his eyes at the chorus, hitting the keys instinctively from months of practicing this song on the keyboard in his bedroom back home. 

Dan’s thoughts floated into nostalgic, homesick territory as he remembered being back home. The lyrics about blue neighbourhoods reminded him of riding his bike and climbing trees as a child, of visiting his grandparents. Halfway into the song, he had tears rolling down his face silently though he kept on playing right up into the end, letting his emotions carry him through the melodies and harmonies. 

“You’re driving me wild…” he finished, voice trailing off, hands resting on the key to hold it out until he really had to. As if his memories might leave him if he let go too soon. 

Dan hardly noticed the eruption of applause as he finally turned back to the audience, wiping his face with the back of his hand and blushing violently. Had he seriously just cried on national television? 

But the crowd seemed to have liked his performance nonetheless as they were all up on their feet, chanting his name. As the noise finally reached his ears instead of the muffled sound covered up with his thoughts, Dan laughed through more tears. This time, they were relieved, surprised, happy tears that were streaking down his face while he continued to laugh bashfully. 

“I think, that was your best performance yet, Dan,” Chloe said as the audience’s cheers died down and Dan stumbled to downstage centre, still bright scarlet. “I think the audience agrees!” she added, pointing behind her with her thumbs. 

Dan muttered a soft thank you, looking down at his feet. “No wait, don't go back into that little shell,” Simon said suddenly, forcing Dan to look up at him in surprise, “Your entire facade completely changes as soon as you get behind that piano. Up front, without the piano to hide behind, you’re really just awkward but as soon as your hands touch those keys, you belong on the stage.

“Don't just throw away that confidence now, not after a performance as good as that,” Simon stated, “You had a good performance so bloody well _own it._ ” By the end of Simon’s speech, Dan’s jaw was all the way to the floor, burst through the floorboards and down to the centre of the earth. 

Harry cut in next. “Simon’s right,” he said, “You look great, your song was amazing, and the crowd loved it. From what we saw up there, you obviously connected with those lyrics.” 

“Be proud of tonight's performance Dan because this might not last,” Andrew pointed out, punching Dan in the gut, “It’s depressing but anything could happen with this show. This performance was brilliant and I want you to take it with you knowing you killed it tonight.” 

Dan stumbled off of the stage, still in a slight daze, not a minute later. Phil was right there waiting for him when he stepped into the hallway off the wings, the widest grin Dan had ever seen etched into his face so deeply Dan wasn't sure he could ever stop. 

“Holy _fuck,_ Dan! That was amazing!” he gushed, apparently throwing all caution to the wind and pulling Dan into a bear hug, flush against him. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered, sending goosebumps all up and down his spine. 

Dan lived on a high for the rest of the night, even when they got to their room hours later. 

¶§

“Alright everyone, welcome back to yet another round of Sing Off!” Harry announced the next morning in the music room. Phil thought he was way too cheerful for bloody seven in the morning after a late show. “This next round focuses on your people skills, so you better polish them up for the Duet Round!” 

Half-hearted cheers erupted from the 10 contestants still left, all of them still weary from last night. Dan looked to be trying very hard not to fall asleep or let his head fall onto Phil’s shoulder in his exhaustion, clapping much too unenthusiastic for the announcement. 

“And now to pair everyone up!” Andrew cut in, smiling just as much as Harry and slapping his hands together. It was almost irritating. 

He listed off many pairs of names, gaining a mix of reactions ranging from excited to malcontented, refusing any offers to switch. “Dan Howell and Phil Lester… Arun and….” Andrew said, reading off monotonously. 

Phil sat up abruptly, nearly giving himself whiplash as he turned to look at Dan, a grin splitting his features. Dan looked just as gleeful, brown eyes wide and fond. They both raised their arms at the same time for a high five, gaining multiple curious looks as they slapped their hands together. 

The rest of the pairings finished not long after and then came rehearsal, as usual. This time, however, it went slightly differently as everyone had to try to sing something with their new duet partners. 

It was a bit of a mess. 

There were multiple arguments about what song to sing, people quarreling about harmonising and which parts each person should get, people forgetting the words to the new and unrehearsed songs. The harmonising attempts often landed flat or were spliced into the same exact notes as each other. 

Dan and Phil, however in sync they often seemed to be, were not safe from this fate and argued about the song they would do for a good few minutes before they compromised on a song they both knew. 

As normal, everyone had to go around and sing their duets. Dan and Phil ended up being the last couple to go, right after Olivia and Freddy. They did relatively well, their voices complimenting each other’s, though they had plenty of mess ups. 

When it was finally their turn, the room went dead silent, curious as to what they would choose to sing and whether or not they would even work together. 

Ironically enough, they decided on Friends by Ed Sheeran. Dan settled at the piano, Phil leaning awkwardly against it while Dan got into the first few verses. Phil grinned, tapping his foot to the beat as he sang his verse, looking back at Dan for a few seconds until he caught the brunette’s eye. 

They sang the chorus together, their voices intertwining together in perfect harmony, serenading the rest of the room to silence. Dan beamed at Phil, making his heart skip a multitude of beats as he returned the smile just as wide. 

When they finished the song a few minutes later, the room exploded with whoops and whistles and applause. The two men bowed jokingly, laughing at the reactions with grins splitting their faces. Even the judges looked impressed, clapping with the others. 

Phil released a breath in relief, running his hands through his quiff as the adrenaline that had been pumping through his body finally slowed and the rest of the world returned in full volume. He turned to smile at Dan again, face flushed and a laugh bubbling out of his mouth. 

“Imagine how good we’ll be with actual practice!” Dan exclaimed, pulling Phil into a tight hug for a moment. He pulled away not long after, shaking his head disbelievingly. “That wasn't horrible!” 

Phil shook his head, still beaming like a light. “I know! We were actually okay!” Phil replied happily, starting out of the music room with Dan following shortly behind. “We should definitely do a different song though,” Phil added as they reached the kitchen where others were preparing their own breakfasts. 

Dan agreed, bowing his head a few times and grabbing a couple of mugs from the cabinet over the sink. He handed one back to Phil who went to grab the already finished kettle and carry it over to Dan. They worked together similarly to during the song, never overstepping the other and moving with fluidity and synchronization. 

It was as though they had known each other for years. 

¶§

“No, that's a horrible song! Its piano part is dreadful, Phil!” Dan exclaimed the next day, standing with his hands on his hips in the music room. Phil was leaning back in one of the plastic chairs, feet resting on another while they tried to decide on a song to sing. 

Phil shrugged, running his hands through his quiffed hair. “It’s better than your idea of singing some boring romantic song!” Phil retorted, raising his eyebrows challengingly. Dan rolled his eyes. 

“No, we’re not singing fucking Breaking Free from High School Musical!” Dan decided, crossing his arms over his chest and pacing in front of the piano. “Besides, we have to sing something that works for both of our voices and that song is too high for your range.”

Phil huffed, looking around the room as though it would have inspiration. “Well, we’ve gotta pick _something,_ ” he pointed out, voice a bit whiny. 

“Yeah, no shit, Phil.” 

Dan shook his head thoughtfully again, walking back and forth still while he desperately grasped for some idea of what to sing. “What songs do we both know? We should start with that,” Dan stated, stopping in front of Phil. 

Phil snorted, smirking. “That certainly narrows it down!” he remarked, earning a kick to the shin from Dan. “Well, it doesn't, does it? We both know hundreds of songs, surely it’ll be hard to narrow down!” 

Dan groaned exasperatedly, dropping sideways into the seat by the piano and leaning his head against the wall, covering his eyes with the crook of his arm. “We’ve gotta start somewhere,” he muttered, peeking at Phil over his elbow. 

“What if we put on a music playlist and if we both hear a song we like, we can do that!” Phil chimed, already pulling out his phone from his back pocket. 

Dan sat up again, knitting his brows together. “That might actually work!” he exclaimed, smiling for the first time that morning, “Phil Lester, you’re a genius!” Phil’s cheeks stained crimson and he mumbled about how he wasn't _that_ smart. 

Phil turned on a playlist from his Spotify and perched his phone on the closed piano, turning the volume all the way up as some song by Paramore came on. Dan shook his head, clicking to the next song and swatting Phil’s hand away when he tried to protest. 

They had heard almost 12 songs by the time a song came on that they both kind of liked. 

“Holy shit, I love Britney Spears,” Dan blurted as the opening of Toxic came on. 

Phil giggled, putting his feet flat on the floor. “This is a weirdly catchy song, yeah,” he replied, picking up his phone and looking at the album. “We could do a slower version of this, maybe. Like, you could play the piano for the beginning or whatever and then the song continues and we just sing it together with the music in the background?” His sentence came out sounding more like a question, though it sounded like he already had a solid plan. 

“That actually sounds like a brilliant idea!” he gushed, grabbing Phil’s shoulders, “Again, Philip Lester, you are a genius!” He pulled Phil into a feverish kiss, nearly falling off his seat as he dragged Phil into his lap for a better angle. 

Phil grunted into the kiss, hands trailing over Dan’s shoulder blades and down to his lower back. Dan felt lines of heat from wherever Phil touched, like he was setting a fire trail along his back. Dan swiped his tongue along Phil’s bottom lip and pushed it in when Phil opened his mouth gratefully. 

It was filthy and messy, hands grabbing and mouths moving together in intricate patterns. They didn't stop until they were both hopelessly out of breath and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Dan gasped for breath, laughing and leaning his forehead on Phil’s. 

“We shouldn't do this here,” Dan whispered, looking over Phil’s shoulder at the door to the music room. He had his arms draped loosely over Phil’s shoulders, still breathing heavily from the intensity of the kiss. “We should probably tell the judges we’ve got a song picked out,” he added as an afterthought, pushing Phil lightly off his lap so he could stand up. 

Phil nodded understandingly and started towards the door, grabbing Dan by his wrist and pulling him behind him. “But that was a good kiss, wasn't it?” Phil clarified over his shoulder, looking slightly unsure. 

Dan nodded, grinning and leaning up to capture his lips in a quick peck and saying, “Oh, definitely. Without a doubt.” 

¶§

After a week and a half of almost constant rehearsals in the music room or outside if it was a nice day, it was finally time for the Duet Round. They had had to keep their routine and song entirely to themselves, which sometimes proved difficult when having to work in a confined place with eight other contestants and four judges constantly around. 

But now, the act just before Dan and Phil’s was going on and the two men were standing backstage getting ready for their duet. 

They had coordinated pretty well for their performance, frankly; Dan was wearing green skinny jeans with rips all up the legs, a black and white checkered print hoodie and a black bomber jacket. Phil, meanwhile, was wearing black skinny jeans, a plain white t-shirt and a green and white bomber jacket. His hair was still styled in a perfect quiff which was stiff with about a pint of hairspray. If Phil was being honest, they looked good. 

As a cover of High Hopes came to a close, Dan’s eyes widened in realisation of how soon their performance would be now. Phil shot him a questioning look, silently asking if he was okay. Dan shrugged, mouthing “I’m fine.” Phil inclined his head once and turned to greet Miley and Jose as they exited the stage looking exhausted and worn out. 

There was an awkward silence on the stage as the crew set up Dan’s piano in the back right of the stage, giving them more room to move about the stage. Dan was cued by one of the other crew members to go to the other side of the stage for his entrance, leaving Phil on his own backstage. 

Thankfully, Phil didn't have to wait too long to enter as he soon heard Dan playing the opening of Toxic on the piano. It was slower than normal and brought forth a round of applause from the audience. Phil grabbed a microphone from the wings and started walking deliberately towards centre stage. 

“Baby, can't you see, I’m calling?” Phil sang, stopping halfway towards the piano and shooting Dan a half smile, “a guy like you should wear a warning, it's dangerous, I’m falling.” He started walking again, leaning over the piano and looking intensely at Dan playing the piano. Turning towards the audience, Phil leaned his right side on the piano and continued. 

Soon, Dan was singing along with Phil, their voices working together like clockwork. By the first chorus, Dan stood up from his seat, walking agonisingly slowly over to Phil who was silent and still. He grinned mischievously at Phil, grabbing one of his hands to twirl him around as the crowd shrieked. 

“I’m addicted to you, don't you know that you're toxic?” they sang together as Dan held Phil’s hips from behind before spinning outwards, still holding one of Phil’s hands. “And I love what you do, don't you know that you’re toxic?” 

As Phil sang the next verse, he strided over to Dan and trailed his fingers up Dan’s arms; Dan visibly shivered, arching his eyebrows in a semi-seductive look. Phil felt electricity racing through his body as they sang back and forth in some obscene tango of a conversation filled with lilting, slow beats and harmonies. 

This dance between them continued for the rest of the song with them blatantly flirting through their moves, following each other around the stage and periodically touching each other suggestively. Near the end of the last few verses, while Phil was singing, Dan made his way back to the piano to take over the notes and Phil hopped up onto the lid of the piano where they sang the last few lyrics of the song. 

_Holy shit we just did that,_ Phil thought as a tumultuous applause broke out and Phil jumped clumsily off the piano, following Dan to the front of the stage for their judging. The spotlight that was pointed right at them was blinding, making the already present sheen of sweat glisten and stick loose strands of hair to his forehead. It was almost pornographic after a song like that. 

Chloe’s eyes were wide with shock, though a soft smile was spreading across her cheeks. Simon looked oddly impressed, clearly trying to hide a smile while Harry continued to clap along with the audience. It was riveting. 

“You know, I wasn't sure either of you could have possibly bested your last performances, but _clearly_ I was very very wrong,” Andrew said after the audience stopped cheering a few minutes later. Phil’s cheeks flushed and he bit his lower lip bashfully. “Seriously, you guys work brilliantly together.” 

Harry nodded emphatically, leaning on the table with a wide grin and wild, ecstatic eyes. “That was excellent boys,” he exclaimed, earning a short span of applause again, “Your voices work really well together, despite having different ranges. You never overpowered the other or overstepped, it was always just moving around each other and complimenting each other’s voices as close to perfect as possible.” 

The two men thanked Harry shyly, glancing sideways at each other to smile knowingly. 

“Are you guys just going to keep on getting better every second because I don't know whether I can handle it,” Chloe gushed, still beaming, “I liked seeing you, Dan, actually standing up for once on stage and you still looked comfortable doing so. So often, when you don't have your piano to hide behind, you look like a deer in headlights but that was just as confident, if not more.” Phil eyed Dan again and watched his cheeks flare up, one of his hands covering his excited grin. “And Phil, I think that new hair of yours changed you. As soon as you got your fringe removed, you became a completely different, more confident person and I absolutely love it.” 

“Wow, Chloe, you took all of my notes from me,” Simon joked, smirking over at the brunette. He turned back to Dan and Phil standing on the stage, “I really think you two have improved since you got to Sing Off. On your first auditions, you were both clearly talented but you had something holding you back. Something has clicked with both of you and you’re open books.” 

Harry interjected, “Not to mention their chemistry is scarily amazing.” 

Both men had their faces in their hands now, Phil’s cheeks set on fire. “Your voices worked well together, your outfits worked well together, everything worked well between you two. So you should be proud of that,” Simon continued. Phil took a peek between his fingers at Simon, cheeks still inflamed. 

“Now go and let the others come up next!” Harry teased, gesturing them towards the left side of the stage. 

Phil exchanged a look with Dan and, at the same time, they grabbed each other’s hand and jogged off the stage. 

It was absolutely electric. 

¶§

“Holy crap, we’re in the semi-finals!” Dan shrieked the next morning, his voice shrill with excitement. There were now only four people left in the competition other than Dan and Phil. It was invigorating and unbelievable but a small part of Dan knew that the competition between him and Phil would be increased tenfold now. 

Phil, who was currently still undressed and sitting up in bed, shook his head disbelievingly. “I know, it's crazy. I can't believe I’ve made it this far,” he replied, watching Dan trying to decide on a shirt to wear. 

Dan sighed, deciding on a white t-shirt with grey stripes on the sleeves. “I can see how you've made it this far, but I’m lucky I’ve done any of this. I never even get _close_ to winning, usually,” Dan explained, pulling the shirt over his head and fixing his hair in the mirror hanging on the wall behind him. 

Phil clambered out of bed finally, stumbling over to the mirror to wrap his arms around Dan’s middle from behind. He was comforting and warm, holding Dan close and making him feel safe and protected from the rest of the world. 

“You’re an amazing singer and pianist, Daniel Howell and I refuse to hear you saying anything else,” Phil said with finality, resting his chin on Dan’s shoulder. Dan rolled his eyes but couldn't keep the soft smile from creeping onto his face, along with the little rosy patch next to his jaw. 

Dan pulled out of Phil’s grasp finally and turned around to look at him. He was standing around in just a pair of white Calvin Klein's, his raven hair resembling a raven’s nest. “Right, Phil,” he said, holding onto the other’s bare shoulders, “You need to get dressed. We have rehearsal in two hours and you're still mostly naked.” 

Phil pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “But what if I _like_ being mostly naked?” he asked, forcing a whine into his voice. 

“As much as I like seeing you naked, it's not socially acceptable to walk around like that all the time,” Dan replied fondly, “Now get dressed!” 

Phil groaned exaggeratedly, but turned around to walk over to his chest of drawers. “Fine!” he groaned dramatically, throwing open one of the drawers haphazardly. 

Once Phil dressed into some skinny jeans, a white shirt and a denim jacket, they made their way down the stairs together and headed to breakfast. Dan was mostly silent, stuck in his head thinking about the competition. 

Suddenly, it was all becoming so real. He could actually win and not only was that the most amazing thing, it was a hell of a lot of pressure. Not to mention he would hate to see Phil lose when he was such a talented singer. He would look great on a stage, dancing around and singing with Harry fucking Styles. 

If Dan won Sing Off, it would be the experience of a lifetime… but he would break Phil’s heart. If Phil won, Dan would be immensely happy for him, but he'd also be extremely disappointed. Dan had never won anything in his life and, when he had impulsively signed up for this months ago, he had been trying to prove that he could win _something._

Dan had hoped to be inconspicuous about his worrisome mindset, but Phil seemed to already have a knack for reading his every thought and emotion and kept shooting him worried looks every so often. 

Dan was still mostly silent after their rehearsals and skipped lunch to go and sit outside on the patio with a book. Behind him, he heard the door opening and closing softly, followed by familiar padding feet. Huffing dramatically, Phil dropped into the seat next to Dan’s and scooted it closer. 

“Hello,” Dan said, looking up from his book for a moment. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet today. Is everything okay?” Phil asked by way of greeting, watching Dan closely and making the hairs on the back of Dan’s neck stand up uncomfortably. 

Dan put his book face down on his knee and turned to look at the raven haired boy with almost sad eyes. Almost. “Just thinking about the semi-finals and whatnot,” he replied, shrugging. Phil raised a suspicious eyebrow, unhappy with Dan’s mostly-true excuse. 

Dan sighed through his nose and continued. “I really _am_ thinking about them. We both have a chance of winning this thing and it's a lot of pressure,” he explained. “I wanna win something just for once and this would be an amazing opportunity, but at the same time…” his voice trailed off, “I’d just hate to see you lose after how much work you’ve put into everything.” 

Phil tilted his head thoughtfully, reaching out to run his fingers through Dan’s messy curls comfortingly. Dan leaned into the touch, waiting for the other man’s reply. “I feel the same way,” Phil said finally, a few long moments later, “I want to win, but I also want you to win. Why can't we both have that?” 

Dan sighed heavily again, shrugging sadly. Phil pulled his hand away from Dan’s hair to place his head on Dan’s shoulder. They stayed in relative silence for a few minutes, listening to the ocean crashing down below and the caw of a seagull flying overhead. 

“Whatever happens, Dan, I’ll be proud of you,” Phil whispered, his voice soft and calm like a still lake. “Even if I lose, I’ll still be happy because I got to meet you.” 

Dan snorted, shaking his head. “You’re so cheesy,” he remarked, voice fond, “But I feel the exact same way.” 

¶§

On the day of the semi-finals, everything was hectic and everyone was frantic. There was so much on the line that evening and it was truly getting to people’s heads. 

Dan ended up having a panic attack in the toilets before he went on while Phil tried to calm him down and avoid screaming at the camera pointing at them as usual. Olivia, Dan’s red haired friend, had a similar breakdown backstage after her set when she messed up a few of her lines. Jose and a rapper named David got into an argument after Jose’s set for some unknown reason. 

Phil was now backstage, waiting for the judges to finish up judging David. It wasn't looking too good for him, unfortunately. Phil was trying to calm himself a bit for his performance when Jimmy wandered over with a grin on his face. 

“Hey, Phil! You ready?” he asked, still grinning. A cameraman, as if Jimmy was magnetised, followed him as usual. 

Phil ignored the camera and turned to Jimmy. “I’m okay, Jimmy. A little nervous, but nothing too out of the ordinary,” he replied, listening for the crowd to cue him onto the stage “It's a bit of a crazy night though,” he added. 

Jimmy laughed, nodding his head in agreement. “Oh, definitely. Stakes are high and everything's a bit mad,” he replied just as the crowd cheered again, “That's your cue to get on, Philly. Break a leg!” 

Phil rolled his eyes but made his way over to the side of the stage, taking a deep breath. _You’ve got this_ he told himself, stepping onto the stage and smiling out at the mammoth audience. He waved cheerfully, trying to mask his fears. 

“Welcome back, Phil! How are you feeling tonight?” Chloe asked, beaming at Phil as usual. 

“You know, I was just asked that by Jimmy backstage,” Phil replied conversationally, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, “I’m okay though, I guess. Kinda terrified but I’m managing.” 

“So, what’ll you be singing for us tonight, Phil?” Simon asked, shooting Phil his usual intense stare that made his skin tingle. 

Phil swallowed, clearing his throat. “I’ll be singing Undisclosed Desires by Muse,” he replied, heart in his throat suddenly under the glare of the lights overhead and the eerie silence of the audience. The crowd cheered at his song, which steeled him slightly. 

As the opening instrumental started, Phil moved to the centre of the stage, swaying his hips to the beat. “I know you suffered, but I don't want you to hide,” he began, following the music. As the tune sped up, he danced a bit more, looking around at the audience with a barely genuine grin. 

Reaching another slower part, leading up to the chorus, Phil was walking rhythmically towards the side of the stage he entered from. To his delight, he caught Dan’s eye as he watched him from backstage and a broad grin melted across Phil’s face. 

Phil bopped his head to the music, running his hands through his raven hair, gazing at the audience somewhat suggestively. He was getting more into the song, beads of sweat rolling down his face from dancing under the hot lanterns above. 

“I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart…” he finished, voice trailing off as the crowd cheered him on. He saw Dan cheering from the sidelines and felt his face flush, though he blamed that on the performance. 

Phil walked up to the front of the stage, still coming down from the high of performing, his breathing heavy and exhausted. He wiped the sweat off his forehead using the sleeve of his bomber jacket, looking down at the judges’ table hopefully. 

“That was a pretty good performance, Phil,” Chloe began, “But I don't know whether it was really the best you can do. Your past few performances have been astounding and incredible, but this one kind of paled in comparison.” She looked sympathetic, but it did nothing to soothe Phil's heart thudding to his stomach. 

Simon cut in next, making Phil want to be swallowed whole. “I agree with Chloe,” he stated unapologetically, “This performance was boring and didn't have a whole lot extra added to it. Bit disappointing.” Phil nodded to show he was listening, though he was mainly focusing on trying not to cry. 

“I’m sorry, Phil, I’m gonna have to agree with the other two,” Harry said sadly, frowning, “As much as this performance was good and you clearly have a lot of talent, this definitely wasn't your best.” _Fuck fuck fuck._

“I don't know if it was nerves or what, but the start of your performance was bland at best, frankly,” Andrew explained next, “You definitely got more into it as the song moved on, but I don't know if you managed to save it.” 

Phil bobbed his head again, wiping more sweat off his forehead and biting his bottom lip. His heart was racing irregularly in his chest and he thought he might vomit. “Hopefully, for your sake, the voters liked your performance a little better,” Chloe added encouragingly, though it was half-hearted at best. 

Phil thanked the judges, voice quiet and distant and made his way off the stage. His had put himself out there and now his heart was lying on the stage, bloody and beaten by the judges and his own mistakes. 

“That was absolute bullshit, what they said,” Dan said when Phil reached backstage. Phil shook his head, pushing past Dan in a pathetic effort to hide his fast coming tears. Noticing Phil’s clear despair, Dan turned Phil around by his shoulders and whispered, “You did great out there, Phil. Trust me.” 

Unable to reply from the tears welling up in his eyes and the lump growing in his throat, Phil simply pulled Dan into a sloppy, wet hug, tears falling fast from his eyes like a dam that cracked and burst open. Dan rubbed his hand up and down Phil’s back, shushing him quietly and whispering calmly in his ear. 

“Oi, Dan, you’re on in five,” one of the crew members backstage said, breaking the moment in an instant. Dan pulled away from Phil, turning to look at the man with an arm still around Phil's waist. 

“I’ll be there in a sec,” he said, shooing the man away and facing Phil again. His voice dropped low and quiet again and he whispered, “You’ll be alright back here? I have to get going, like, now.” 

Phil nodded, wiping a few stray tears from his face. “Yeah, I’m okay. Go out there and kick their asses,” Phil said, forcing a smile. Dan giggled, shaking his head and making his way towards the side of the stage. 

God, Phil hoped Dan’s set went perfectly. 

“Contestants, please make your way on stage for the results!” Jimmy’s voice rang over the green room, startling Phil slightly. He was sitting in the corner of the room on a creaky metal seat with Dan, trying to avoid his problems. 

Dan stood up, looking back at him and holding out his hand. “You ready?” Dan tilted his head questioningly and Phil grabbed his outstretched hand and stood up as well. They made their way with the other four towards the stage again. 

This was always Phil’s least favourite part of the show. He hated standing with the rest of the contestants while everyone judged him and he waited to find out whether he was shit or not. So far, he had been safe. 

But now he was in hot water. 

Dan dropped his hand as they reached the backstage, but stuck close to him as they walked on stage. Phil squinted under the scrutinising spotlights shining down and stood in one of the direct spots. He was feeling especially vulnerable under the light. Dan headed over to the next spotlight, a few feet away. 

“Tonight, unfortunately, three of you will have to go home,” Jimmy said from the lower left of the stage, frowning for once and shuffling the cards in his hand with the contestants’ names on them. “The other three will go to the final of this year's Great British Sing Off.” 

Phil shifted uneasily on his feet, heart racing violently. “The first person to go home tonight is…” Jimmy announced, pausing to open the first navy blue envelope, “David West.” The spotlight shining down on the rapper shut off, leaving him in pathetic darkness. Phil gulped harshly. 

“The next person unfortunately going home tonight is…” Jimmy started, “Sara Abbas.” Again, the spotlight shining over the losing contestant went out, leaving her in darkness. 

“The first contestant going to the finals is… Olivia Hansen!” The crowd erupted, cheering for Olivia whose entire face flushed with excitement and relief. Phil and the other contestants clapped politely for her. “The next person going to the finals is… Dan Howell!” 

Phil clapped the loudest, even wolf whistling. Dan’s hand covered his mouth in shock, his amber eyes going wide as the crowd screamed and clapped. Phil grinned for the first time since his song ended, momentarily forgetting his troubles. 

As the crowd died down, Jimmy began speaking again, instantly reminding Phil of everything that was on the line now “The last person who will be unfortunately going home tonight is…” Jimmy took his time to open the envelope, furthering Phil’s internal toils. “Phil Lester.” 

Phil’s heart, for the second time that night, shattered as the spotlight shining on him forced him into darkness. He was barely aware of Jimmy saying that Jose was going to the finals as well, everything around him blurring and fading out of his focus. 

So that was it. Phil was going home. 

“Congratulations on getting to the finals,” Phil said a few minutes later when he was alone with Dan in the green room again. Dan didn't look nearly as happy as Phil wanted him to be, his eyebrows knitted together. “You deserve it far more than me,” Phil said, holding Dan’s hands in his. 

Dan shook his head. “That's not true, Phi—” 

Phil cut him off insisting, “Yes it is, Dan. I’m just glad that you still have a chance to win. I’ll be okay.” 

“Are you sure?” Dan asked, his voice high and uncertain. 

Phil smiled, leaning forwards to press a chaste kiss to Dan's bitten lips. “Absolutely certain.” 

¶§

Dan was in the finals. _Dan was in the finals._ He actually did it. He made it into the finals. Even if he lost, he would still be immensely proud of himself for even managing that. 

The week leading up to the final was chaotic and emotional and lonely for Dan, to say the least. He had intensive, seemingly endless rehearsals and frequent stress over the prospect of winning or losing. On top of all that, he no longer had Phil right by his side at almost every hour of the day. His room was blatantly empty without Phil's clothes lying haphazardly or his straighteners lying on the counter or just his very presence. 

Dan was on his own in a room built for two, in a bed once inhabited by two. 

Now, a week after the messy, stressful, amazing, heartbreaking semi-finals, Dan was sitting backstage while Jimmy introduced the show. For the first time in this entire competition, Dan was going first. 

He was standing on the opposite side he usually sat in, going over his plan over and over in his head. 

“And now, without any further ado from this annoying blond, it's time for the 2018 Sing Off Final!” Jimmy shouted, grinning excitedly. Suddenly, however, the lights shining over the stage and onto the judges’ table cut off, leaving the entire room in darkness. 

Murmurs came up through the audience, every sound seeming to echo through the air ten times louder than normal. Someone in the crowd shouted, “What’s going on?” But before anyone could reply, the silence was cut off by the sound of a piano playing. 

Dan’s hands flew over the keyboard, furiously playing the opening to Futile Devices. Even in the darkness, he knew it like the back of his hand. All the lights previously washing the stage flipped back on, revealing Dan at his piano as usual. The crowd’s uproar was deafening and Dan couldn't help the smile that peeked out as he began singing. Dan sang along to his playing, shutting his eyes calmly as he got into it. 

As the crowd was beginning to get into the song, Dan sang, “I do… love you. I do… love you.” He filtered his notes out, slowing slightly as more whispers popped up, questioning whether he forgot. 

And then smoothly, as if he had been born to do so, Dan managed to cross his notes into Michael Buble’s Haven't Met You Yet. The audience’s reaction, if that was even possible, was even more explosive than a few moments before. Even the judges were taken aback, Chloe’s jaw dropping as she exchanged an amazed look with Harry. 

“And I know someday that it’ll all turn up,” he sang, grinning and leaning into the keys, “You’ll make me work so we can all work to work it out.” Dan sang the chorus just as fluidly, just as clearly as he breathed. 

As he reached the end of the song, his hands racing over the keys like an Olympic runner, he looked out at the audience, slamming the last notes so they rang out over the entire room. 

Almost immediately, the crowd was on their feet. Dan’s eyes widened as he watched, one by one, everyone stood up, cheering and clapping and even whistling. Dan stumbled out of his seat, mouth open in shock and bowed a few times awkwardly. 

It took what felt like a decade for the applause to die out and by that point, Dan was nearly on the floor. 

“That was absolutely freaking AMAZING!” Chloe shrieked, her voice shrill and ecstatic, a massive grin practically splitting her face in half. “That opening, the smooth change of songs, the notes, everything. That was as close to perfect as I’ve ever heard something be.” 

“That was pretty impressive right there, yes,” Simon admitted, earning an abashed laugh from Dan, “I wasn't so sure about the first song but your piano work was pretty fantastic. It's hard to move from such a slow song into a fast one without even a stumble so I applaud you.” 

Dan thanked Simon and listened to the other judges. “I loved that. Muse is one of my favourites and you could play that in the literal dark,” Andrew claimed, “And then you made it look easy how you switched into an extremely upbeat song. That takes talent, mate. Brilliant job.” 

“Who would have thought someone could evoke so many emotions in less than seven minutes?” Harry said, grinning fiercely at Dan, “Your confidence has soared since you came on this show, your talent has flourished and frankly it's amazing. You had a shocking and amazing performance, Dan.” 

_Holy shit, I didn't die._

The results an hour and a half later came faster than Dan could have imagined.

He was sitting backstage with Olivia and Jose and listening to Jimmy talking animatedly with the judges. Dan’s knee bounced up and down anxiously while Olivia ran her hands through her hair and chewed on her bottom lip. Jose was standing near the door to backstage, arms crossed while he muttered nervously in Spanish. 

“Can our lovely finalists please make their way onto the stage, please?” 

Dan stood up so fast he swayed slightly on his feet, a dizzy feeling washing over him like a bucket of water. Olivia stood up as well, grabbing his hand to wish him good luck. _Oh fuck it._ Dan reached out to Jose and then the three of them walked on hand in hand in some form of solidarity. It was comforting to have people on either side of him, centering him in the applause that washed over them. 

“Aww, that's lovely,” Jimmy cooed as they stopped centre stage together.

“Right, so now for the results,” Jimmy began, holding up the blue envelopes in his hand. “In third place for this year’s Great British Sing Off we have…” He fumbled over the blue paper, tauntingly slow. It contrasted the racing heart of a younger Dan being teased by another child on the playground. 

“Jose Verdejo.” 

Jose dropped Dan’s hand and the three of them had a quick group hug while the audience had an interesting mix of cheers and boos. “It was great meeting you, Jose. Keep in touch,” Dan whispered, pulling out of the hug first. 

“It was great meeting you both as well,” Jose replied, smiling sadly, “Adios, assholes!” 

Once Jose was off the stage, Jimmy began again, “And now for the moment you’ve all really been waiting for. The winner of this year’s Great British Sing Off!” Dan felt Olivia gripping his hand again and he squeezed it back encouragingly. 

“And the winner is…” Jimmy announced, tearing open an envelope with the Union Jack on it. Dan held his breath in anticipation, his pulse ringing loudly in his ears in the audience’s absolute silence. 

“Dan Howell!” 

In an instant, Dan was on the ground. The audience boomed, golden confetti exploding into the air and raining down on the stage while Dan burst into tears. Relief and excitement washed over him, along with his sobs, his knees hugged to his chest. An odd sob mixed with a laugh bubbled out of his mouth and he looked up to see the four judges walking on stage towards him. 

Dan stumbled to his feet, tears streaking down his face. Half in shock, Dan was pulled into a tight hug by Chloe. “Congratulations, Dan! I’m so proud of you!” she said into his ear, pulling away shortly after with a her usual trademark smile. 

Dan got a pat on the back from Simon and a half hug from Andrew and then he was being yanked into Harry Styles’ grasp. “I look forward to going on tour with you, Dan! It's gonna be awesome!” 

A few minutes later, still covered in gold confetti and drying tears, Dan walked out into the lobby of the O2 to meet his family for hugs and further congratulations. He was happy to see them again after almost three months flying back and forth between Spain and the O2 Arena. 

He was distracted, however, by someone else entirely. 

Standing a few feet away from his family, with a wide grin and a bouquet of various flowers, was Phil Lester. Ignoring his family for the time being, Dan shrieked, sprinting over towards Phil. Phil squeaked, dropping the flowers on the floor to catch Dan in a bear hug and a fiery kiss. 

“Oh, my God. What the fuck. You came!” Dan babbled once he pulled away from the kiss, a megawatt smile on his tear-stained face. 

Phil chuckled, brushing a curl out of Dan’s face and holding him tighter around his waist. “Of course, you rat,” Phil chimed, earning a soft slap on the arm, “That was a fantastic performance, Dan. I actually cried, it was so fucking good.” 

“I’m glad you liked it,” Dan replied coyly, batting his thick eyelashes. 

Phil seemed to think about something for a moment, biting his lip. “Liked it? I loved it!” he blurted, “Almost as much as I love you...?” His voice was uncertain and quiet all of a sudden, coming out more as a question. 

“Jesus fucking Christ. This is the best day of my life,” Dan exclaimed, pulling Phil into another kiss, “I love you too, you numpty.” He was greeted by the biggest smile he had seen Phil have in his entire life. 

It was bloody brilliant. 

¶§

“Is everyone having a good time tonight?” Dan asked the crowd, holding out his microphone. The audience screamed in response, including Phil. 

Almost six months later, Phil was standing somewhere near the front of the stage, gazing up at his gorgeous boyfriend. In Phil’s opinion, Dan looked extra beautiful, extra delicious that night. He was wearing black and white striped trousers which were cuffed at the ankle, red high top Converse and a loose fitting rainbow sweater tucked in the front. His sparkly black nail polish twinkled in the spotlights like the night sky. 

“I’m gonna take that ear splitting cheering as a yes,” Dan joked into the microphone, a grin prominent on his face. “So this next song is one I’ve been working on for a few months now. It's about a certain special person that is actually in the audience somewhere tonight. Hello, love.” Dan looked around, shielding his eyes as if he didn't already know where Phil was standing—he had his seat reserved for him specially. 

“So, without further ado, I hope you _all_ enjoy my new song Raven.” 

It started out as a slow, melodic song with Dan behind a polished, shiny white piano, his big hands moving delicately over the keys. As usual, he looked at home behind the big piano, sitting in the squishy white chair like a throne fit for a king. His angelic voice echoed around the stadium, a subdued smile on his rosey cheeks. 

Not a minute into the song, however, it quickly sped up into some sort of pop-rock song, Dan’s fingers flying across the keys before he was leaping out of his seat. The audience roared their approval as Dan grinned, belting out the fiery lyrics. 

“You call me perfect every single day,” he sang, whipping his hair out of his face and hurrying to the front of the stage to greet the audience. “They say we’re perfect, but it don't mean a thing to me. You’re a raven and I’m just a duck.” Phil chuckled at Dan’s lyrics, shaking his head as he danced along with the rest of the audience. 

“And even though I’m nothing special, I don't give a fuck.” _That's my Dan,_ Phil thought, watching Dan make his way back to the piano. He played the last few sections behind the piano, easily changing the pace back and forth and even shutting his eyes; Phil never knew how Dan managed to do that without fail. 

When Dan’s set of songs finished, Dan announced Harry Styles onto the stage and jogged off the stage to an uproar of fans chanting for Harry. Phil giggled, still blushing from the song Dan wrote. 

After Harry’s concert finished a couple hours later, Phil was swept up momentarily in the swarm of fans still singing and shouting and laughing. He was still living that concert high, his heart beating and his ears ringing as he made his way over towards backstage to meet up with Dan after the concert. 

It was one of the very last concerts Dan would be accompanying Harry on before he was no longer going to be the opening act for his European tour. Phil obviously knew Dan would miss doing the tour, but Phil was excited for a bit of normalcy for once. Once Dan was off tour, they could properly date and see each other every day again. 

Just like when they met. 

“PHILLY!” As soon as the door towards the dressing rooms and stage opened and shut behind him, Dan came bounding towards him like an excitable puppy. Phil just barely reacted in time to catch Dan in his arms, stumbling back a step or two as the very tall man wrapped his legs around him. 

“Alright, let a man breathe, please,” Phil grunted, putting Dan down on the floor but keeping his arms wrapped securely around his middle. “Hi, baby,” he whispered cheesily, kissing Dan on the lips for a moment. 

Dan rolled his eyes but kissed back, grinning into it. “Hi, rat.” Phil gasped, feigning annoyance and pulling out of Dan’s strong embrace. He put his hand on his chest, jaw dropped like he was horrified and disgusted. The grin peeking through certainly did nothing to help him. 

“Oh, shut up,” Phil whined, crossing his arms now. 

Dan pulled Phil back into another bear hug, kissing his cheek wetly. Phil giggled cheerfully, turning his head to capture Dan’s lips in a passionate kiss, as if making up for time. It was rough and wet with tongues and teeth clashing, but it was perfect because it was _them._

“Oi, lovebirds. You not gonna say hello to your friend?” Dan and Phil pulled apart at the same time, a slightly gross line of spit still connecting them. Harry, clad in a plain white t-shirt and a pair of pinstripe trousers was standing a few feet away with his hands on his hips. 

Phil grinned. “Hello again, Harry,” he said, wiping off his mouth and giving Harry a hug. 

“So, what did you think of the concert?” Harry asked conversationally once they pulled apart, leaning against the painted stone of the long corridor. 

“Oh, it was fantastic!” Phil exclaimed, “The energy was electric and your set was amazing! Not to mention Dan’s performance _killed._ ” Dan’s cheeks turned a violent crimson shade and Phil pulled him to his side by grabbing his hand. 

Once Harry was gone, Dan turned to Phil, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip. “Was I really that good? Did you like my song?” Dan asked hopefully, his voice high and quiet like he was actually scared of the answer. 

Phil nodded, grinning enthusiastically. “I loved it. Although, I have to disagree with your claim that you aren't pretty because you definitely are,” Phil replied easily, “I’m so proud of you, though, really. You’ve come so far since when we met.” 

Dan rolled his eyes, though his left dimple was ever present. “And to think, all this started with some silly competition to go on a tour.”


End file.
